


Balloon Belly

by Roselyn



Category: A Cure For Wellness (2016)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, F/M, Fantasy, Guilty Pleasures, Incest, Obsession, Parent/Child Incest, VOLMER DOES HAVE A TWISTED FANTASY, balloon, balloon-belly, belly licking, belly play, delayed pleasure, stomach kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 01:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15062270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roselyn/pseuds/Roselyn





	Balloon Belly

Dr. Volmer glances at Hannah over his papers. He feels edgy. 

The girl takes no notice of his intense blue gaze. She looks out the window, swinging her legs. She’s waiting for him to finish his work for the day. 

He’s troubled, uncertain. He wants to tell her, but. . . No. It is better he doesn’t. He does not dare. It would be too weird, so instead he comes up with a clever lie.

“Hannah, we need to talk,” he says and on an instant, the soft swinging of her legs stop. She looks at him shyly, quietly. 

“Am I in trouble?” She asks, hugging herself. She has not yet forgotten the last lesson he has given him. 

“I have come to notice you’re having some difficulties to be gentle enough when you are . . . comforting me,” Dr. Volmer says, picking his words carefully. 

“Oh,” is all the girl says, lowering her gaze. Her cheeks glow bright with embarrassment. “I promise to be gentler,” she whispers. It is a thing she has said before. 

“That is what I’d like us to talk about, Hannah,” Dr. Volmer says, placing down his papers. He can already feel the heat of anticipation starting to build up in his lower stomach. “I’d like you to practice a little.” 

The girl raises her gaze to meet his eyes. Her cheeks glow brighter still. 

Dr. Volmer looks back at her, fighting a smile. “Will you finish, if you start, Hannah?” 

She nods, almost remorsefully. “I’ll be a good girl. . .” 

Dr. Volmer rises from his seat, offering her his hand. They walk casually along the halls of the sanitarium to his bedroom. There, he locks the door. He leads Hannah to the bed, lying down. He lets her tie up his hands with his belt. The feeling is oddly comforting. Familiar. And full of promises. 

“Hannah. . . I want you think of me as a. . . a balloon. If you’re too rough, you’ll pop me,” he tells the girl, trying to stop himself from squirming with anticipation. 

It was the fleeting creation of his brain, the last time she rubbed him. A twisted thought that had then turned into an obsession, a fantasy. He had not been able to think anything else for days. He wants Hannah to pretend his stomach is a balloon —And he’s completely at her mercy. . . 

“A balloon. . .” the girl whispers, and even the word is enough to make Volmer’s cock twitch. “You don’t look much like a balloon. . .” 

He does have a cure for that. He has a cure pretty much for everything. And he knows: He knows Hannah will like it. 

He breathes deeply for a couple of times, getting her attention. Watching how she watches the movement of his flat, toned belly. Then, he pushed his stomach out. 

The girl gasps softly with the sight of his sudden roundness. Her eyes light up. 

“Remember, Hannah,” Dr. Volmer warns her, already giddy with anticipation. He’s going to enjoy this. 

“I’ll be a good girl,” Hannah convinces, already reaching for him. Her cool fingers meet his tightened stomach greedily, but she stays true to her promise. Only her fingertips brush his rounded mound, so temptingly covered by the white coat and a light-brown shirt. 

She parts the coat slowly, almost respectfully, placing her hands on his middle. His pushed out stomach is like a hill, rising between his toned chest and hipbones. 

Hannah spends a while just admiring him, resting her hands on his belly. And already Dr. Volmer breathes a little faster, making his pushed out middle pulsate slightly. 

Hannah makes a sound, a soft muffled whimper. It is getting difficult for her to be gentle, but she fights her urges, sliding her palms over his stomach for a couple of times. Just as gently she would on a balloon. . .

Dr. Volmer moans softly. It had become difficult for him to keep his stomach pushed up and so he takes a deep breath, allowing his muscles to relax for a moment. 

Hannah stops as soon as his stomach goes flat. 

“Was I too rough?” she asks, distressed. “D-did I. . . pop you?” 

Her words are almost too much for Dr. Volmer to take and in a way, he takes pleasure of the thought, of the mental image of his balloon-belly, popping. 

“N-no. No. You were gentle,” he breathes. “I just needed a moment to rest, that is all. . .” 

And he pushes his belly back up, turning it as linen covered mound. 

Hannah massages him a moment longer, before slowly starting to undo his buttons. Her fingers slide from his lower belly up to his ribcage and back again, making Dr. Volmer grunt and arch his head in pleasure. 

She exposes him, slowly, button after button, parting the light-brown fabric. Her lips part with the sight of his round balloon-belly, peaking out between the halves of his shirt. 

She pushes the shirt away completely, gently yanking the waist of his trousers a little lower. 

“H-Hannah. . .” 

She breathes shallowly, almost as fast and shallow he’s breathing and Dr. Volmer can tell she’s admiring his roundness. The tightness of the balloon. . .

She places a finger on his chest, sliding it slowly down, all the way to his waistline and as he lets out a slightly louder gasp of breath, she repeats the gesture, trailing down the same path with her nail. 

She moves slower as she has passed his navel, getting to the soft part of his out-pushed lower belly. There, she adds pressure, but just slightly, dragging the tip of her nail down his abdomen to his waistline. 

“Hannah. Oh god, Hannah!” 

Dr. Volmer is getting lost in his pleasure. The image of her nail, dragging the thin rubber of the balloon . . . the skin of his out-pushed stomach. . . It feels like a threat. A very, very sweet threat. 

Hannah starts to massage him again after his cry of passion. Her hands roll on his stomach, gentle, but with slightly added pleasure. The feeling is delicious. Beyond measure.

And she drags her nails down his stomach one last time; all ten of them, savoring the small cry he makes, taking in the sight of his squirming body. 

She touched his belly with her lips now. Softly, gently, taking her sweet time. Now, Dr. Volmer is panting heavily, doing his best to keep his belly pushed up. His abs starts to slowly cramp with the effort, adding his pleasure. 

Hannah trails is ribs with her tongue, occasionally planting soft, wet kisses. This is the sweetest torture she can offer him, his weakness, his stolen, dirty pleasure. . .

When her tongue touches his stomach Dr. Volmer is nearly done for. He’s painfully close. He can see her tongue, leaving wet trail on the rubber of the balloon, the thin skin of his stretched out stomach, poking out from his body like a mountain. He has begun to sweat. 

Hannah’s last lick is too much to bear; she slides her tongue up his body, all the way from his lower stomach to his neck, planting a sloppy kiss there. The feeling is too good. Too much to handle. 

“P-pop me Hannah,” Dr. Volmer gasps out, barely realizing what leaves his mouth. “Dear god, pop me!” 

He is despaired now, pleading. His head arches in pleasure, the leather of the belt tightens against the bruised skin of his wrists. 

And the girl moves lower again; her tongue moves swiftly up from his waistline to his navel. And she nibbles him, right there, from the tender spot. 

And Volmer goes over the edge. His eyes roll back in pleasure as he lets out a muffled cry, his back arching. His stomach falls back flat, his muscles still cramping. 

He’s popped, spent, exhausted. 

Hannah is swift to untie his hands. She curls next to him, shyly, resting her head upon his shoulder. 

“Was I. . . was I gentle?” she asks, not looking at him. Her cheek feels hot against his skin. 

“Yes. You were such a good girl, Hannah. Such a good girl. . .” 

“You had a cramp, didn’t you?” she asks silently, slowly placing her hand on his belly. “I helped you past it, didn’t I? I popped you. . .”

Dr. Volmer nods, breathing deeply. The girl has always taken his release for a cramp. 

He’s not about to correct her.


End file.
